


Shout It Out

by foil



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Zuko (Avatar), First Time (Sokka), Game Shows, M/M, Second-Hand Embarrassment, family feud knockoff, past Jet/Zuko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foil/pseuds/foil
Summary: "What is it, exactly?" asked Zuko."It's just like 'Family Feud,' but edgier, and with more glitter! You have to guess the most popular responses to survey questions, like 'what do you put on a cheeseburger' or 'what's another word for blue?' It's impossible to mess up! Just be yourself!"'Avatar: The Last Airbender' actors Zuko and Sokka make a splash in their game show debut.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 321





	Shout It Out

**Author's Note:**

> I posted the first half of this once and nervously deleted it, but it's hopefully here to stay this time, complete with the conclusion. It's not my best work in terms of technicality and tense-consistency, but I hope you enjoy this anyway, and don't take it too seriously! Hope you are having a great day. And sorry if I stole anyone's last names.

The last time Zuko checks, "OMG ZUKO SOKKA AVATAR CAST FAILZ COMPILATION LMAOSDFJ" has four-hundred-seventy million views on YouTube and several autotuned remixes of himself screaming the word "waffles." He pulls the blankets back over his head and groans softly.

Zuko is an actor. A good one, if the Academy Awards, Oscars, and Golden Globes are any indication. He just swept the boards for his role as a banished prince in _Avatar: The Last Airbender,_ the movie trilogy that shot newcomer Aang to international fame—the same Aang who is now Zuko's best friend, and who can go choke on three large penises. "Let's do the gameshow," Aang saaaaid. "It'll be funnnnn," Aang saaaaid. Fuck Aang and his huge eyes and the cute little red carpet he rolled in on. He and Zuko are only still talking because Zuko himself agreed too, in a moment of weakness.

And it had nothing to do with seeing Sokka again, thank you very much.

Sokka Qappik: brother of action heroine Katara Qappik. Ex-gaffer. Absolute snack. _Avatar_ was only his third real acting gig ever, and while his side role as the meat and sarcasm guy didn't showcase his true versatility, he was the lead in an unaired pilot for _Republic City_ that had Zuko breathless with awe. Guy's an up-and-comer, still fabulously plainspoken and Hollywood-uninitiated. He got caught two weeks ago by the paparazzi walking his dog in pink aviators and jelly sandals as he messily ate street takoyaki.

(FASHION-FORWARD OR SLOPPY JOE? QAPPIK SIB SPOTTED LAST WEEK BY JAPANTOWN IN FUNKY FOOTWEAR.)

Zuko himself has to dress impeccably in freshly-pressed trousers, black button-ups, and opaque sunglasses whenever he leaves his decadent apartment to meet Azula, his sister and agent, for dinner twice weekly. Nothing political, nothing inventive. The In-Crowd calls him "sophisticated." Aang calls him "blasé."

"That's why we gotta do Shout it Out," Aang explained, back when this whole mess was just unraveling. "You have to prove you can have fun! Please, Zuko? The rest of the cast is all for it!"

"What is it, exactly?" asked Zuko.

"It's just like 'Family Feud,' but edgier, and with more glitter! You have to guess the most popular responses to survey questions, like 'what do you put on a cheeseburger' or 'what's another word for blue?' It's impossible to mess up! Just be yourself!"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Aang, but 'myself' is a reclusive, awkward, stick-up-his-ass child star who doesn't have any real friends," said Zuko.

"You have me now," Aang said warmly. "Come on, Zuko. Let's have fun with this."

And that's how Zuko ended up backstage in front of a long row of lightbulb-lined mirrors, sitting in a makeup chair as Ty Lee patted his face with matte powder. Wardrobe stuck him in black skinny jeans and a deep red cardigan, and his eyes look rockstarry with the help of gold eyeshadow and just the faintest stroke of waterproof mascara. They even gave him a pair of stylishly battered Converse to wear. All part of the illusion.

_Just another role to play._

**~Friday~**

Zuko's reading a weekly tabloid when the ladies accost him.

"Zuko, I can't believe you decided to join us!" Katara enthuses, resplendent in a short blue evening gown and nude heels. "We couldn't have done this gig without you, so thank you so much for hopping aboard!"

"Why wouldn't I?" Zuko asks, but he kind of snaps it on accident, and she cringes a little.

"Because you're an award-winning A-Lister, and we're commercial as fuck?" offers Toph. Her hair is swept into a long, gorgeous plait behind her back, and she's wearing a green off-the-shoulder sweater and designer jeans, artistically ripped at the thighs. He heard her yelling earlier about how she'd bite anyone who tried to put lipstick on her. Her mouth is bare now, and she's smirking at him in the mirror, somehow pinning him down perfectly with her gorgeous, unseeing eyes. "Just thought you'd have bigger fish to fry, is all."

"Oh, leave him alone," says Suki. After their American-made film, it's weird hearing her crisp British accent, bright and welcoming. "We're just glad to see you, and not jealous at all of your nominations."

"We'll win the Critics' Choice for 'Best Ensemble,' no contest," says Zuko, flushing. "We did it together."

"You're such a sweetheart," says a fond voice behind him.

Zuko fumbles his phone and loses it briefly under the makeup table. By the time he retrieves it, the girls have parted to make room for Sokka.

 _Fuck_ , he looks good. Fitted blue suit jacket, tight white pants, button-up open to display a lovely white choker. His hair has grown out since filming, and he wears it in a high ponytail. Four silver rings in one ear, two studs in the opposite lobe. He lays a soft hand on Zuko's shoulder, sending about a billion volts of electricity up his arm and straight into his ass.

"S-Sokka," says Zuko, intelligently.

"Zuko," Sokka returns warmly. "It's really good to see you again."

The cast hasn't been reunited since the premiere. Katara's already busy practicing stunt work for an upcoming action flick, Toph's got her metal band, and Zuko himself is in rehearsals for a new adaptation of _Love Amongst the Dragons_. And Sokka and Suki? Dating, if the magazines are any indication. They sure are standing close right now. Zuko feels a sick wave of jealousy that he swallows back behind a tentative smile.

"What are you working on these days?" he asks, after reciting the question a few times in his head.

"Oh, I've got a few conquests," says Sokka, stammering a little. "Have you, um—been getting my invites?"

Zuko blinks. "What invites?"

Sokka's cheeks turn red. "Man! It's impossible to get through your sister! Nothing important, I guess. Just wanted to see if you felt like grabbing lunch a few times last month. Probably would've just been Japanese street food or the pupusa stand behind my apartment or something. Wouldn't have interested you."

"I'm sorry. Azula's a little hardcore about filtering my messages," says Zuko. His own face feels hot, and he knows it's not just the studio lights. "I wasn't trying to avoid you."

"Oh, that's—that's great!" says Sokka, perking up. "Because—I don't know. You were a little distant during filming."

Zuko winces. He sits alone between takes on every set, trying to concentrate, stay in character. He didn't realize it made him look like a dick. And he did refuse a few invites to go out after they wrapped for the day, but that was only because filming took a lot out of him. He thought they'd understand that. But everyone has different processes, Zuko realizes, thinking about how Sokka and Suki would goof off with the prop swords backstage, or Toph would jam with her headphones on, or Aang would be late every day because he was picking up coffee for everyone—

"Hey guys!" Aang calls, bursting through the backstage door with two drink carriers packed full of Jasmine Dragon cups. "You didn't start without me, did you?"

"How could we have?" asks Katara, blushing. "You're the main attraction!"

Aang's ears turn pink. "That's kind of you, Katara, but we know everyone's really here to watch you."

"Stop buying us coffee, Twinkle Toes," Toph scolds, accepting her frappuccino anyway. "We're rich and famous and we have people who are supposed to do this for us."

"I just don't like showing up empty-handed," says Aang.

"Nonsense. You're the life of the party," Suki says, rubbing his shaved head for good luck. He grins.

"This is going to be a blast, you guys," he says.

*

Spoilers: it's not a blast.

*

Live television is way different from film. Zuko knows this, seasoned stars Katara and Suki and Toph know this, but Aang and Sokka begin the broadcast by forgetting their marks and bumping into each other.

"Uh oh," says Uncle Iroh, laughing. He's a peaceable, wise, kind-hearted gentleman and MC, and absolutely none of it is an act—he was legitimately delighted to greet them earlier that day, shaking their hands with enviable strength. Now he's wearing a terrible lime green suit that looks like carpet, and he raises his arms to a flood of gold confetti and raucous applause. "Hello, movie fans," he says. "I'm Uncle Iroh, and this is a special All-Star, All-Avatar edition of—"

The audience joins him: _"Shout! It! Out!"_

Zuko is stationed stage right with Toph and Suki, his teammates; Katara, Sokka, and Aang are at podiums across from him. He makes accidental eye contact with Sokka as he studies the set. Sokka grins at him and gives him a tiny waist-level wave. Zuko flushes and looks away.

"The third and final installment in the trilogy of _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ has already broken several box-office records in its run, which we expect will last many more months," says Uncle Iroh. "The film follows a young master of great elemental power through his journey to end a hundred-year war. It is my honor to introduce Aang, Katara, and Sokka on Team One—"

"Woooo!" Sokka cheers as the camera pans over him; Aang smiles shyly and Katara waves.

"—and Toph, Suki, and Zuko on Team Two!"

Suki and Toph high-five elaborately—it's apparently something they actually practiced—which leaves Zuko to awkwardly bow his head a little, trying not to look like a supreme asshole.

Uncle Iroh claps enthusiastically. "Now I'm sure you're all familiar with the rules," he says, once the applause has died down. "We've polled one hundred citizens on the street to obtain the most popular answers to simple questions. All you have to do is guess their responses, which will appear on the board behind me! For example: what is a country that starts with the letter E?"

Suki's the fastest on the buzzer. "Ecuador," she says.

The word 'ECUADOR' appears behind Uncle Iroh in shining capital letters. "Wonderfully done!" he says. "See? Nothing to it! Zuko and Sokka, would you please join me front and center?"

The two of them step down from behind their podiums. Sokka really hams it up, waving and grinning, but Zuko just feels uncomfortable—if there's anything he's learned so far, it's that game shows are not his scene. The lights and the crowd and the energy and the antics. It doesn't occur to him that Sokka is faking it too until they're standing face-to-face in front of Uncle Iroh, and Sokka's (glimmering, oceanic, gorgeous) blue eyes reflect the faintest hint of anxiety.

He smiles when he sees Zuko, though, and Zuko smiles back, immediately and utterly distracted.

It takes him a second to realize Uncle Iroh is speaking to them.

"—Zuko and Sokka with our first lighting round! Gentlemen, are you ready?"

Sokka's pretty pink tongue sticks out at the corner of his mouth, and he leans with one hand over his buzzer, narrowing his eyes with challenge. Zuko's grin widens. He leans in too, and the heat rolling off of him in nervous waves aren't just from the stage lights.

"First question," says Uncle Iroh. "What is a type of pet that requires little maintenance?"

Zuko rings in.

"A dead one," he says.

Utter silence for a moment. Uncle Iroh and Sokka stare at him. Then the crowd begins murmuring, and Suki bursts out laughing, and Azula's voice in the audience very clearly says, "Way to go, Zuzu."

Belatedly, Uncle Iroh belly-laughs. "No, I'm afraid that wasn't one of the top polled answers," he says cheerily. There are three light dinging sounds, and behind him, the answers read 'fish,' 'turtles,' and 'rocks.' Zuko glares. How the fuck is 'rocks' an answer and 'dead rabbits' isn't? He sighs, and his score drops to -100 on the giant neon board. Uncle Iroh pats him fondly on the back. "Now, that was just a warm-up, boys," he says. "Hands ready on the buzzers?"

Zuko poises his hand over the button again, and Sokka does the same, grinning.

"What," says Uncle Iroh, "might an old coin be made out of?"

Sokka buzzes in fast. "Bread," he says.

The audience laughs. Zuko stares at Sokka. Sokka stares blankly back, then slaps his forehead. "What did I just say?" he says.

"Bread," says Zuko.

Sokka's cheeks color prettily. "I panicked," he says.

The answers drop down: silver, gold, and copper. "'Bread' was very close," says Uncle Iroh generously. "Remember, there's no need to fret—this is just a game. Nothing is at stake here except bragging rights."

But it's not just a game, Zuko thinks, with growing distress. It's a chance to impress Sokka with his reflexes, quick wit, and fingernails, manicured especially for this occasion. Sokka looks even more beautiful now that he's embarrassed, and they both reach for their buzzers again, avoiding each other's eyes. Uncle Iroh flips to another card.

"Name a type of bear," he says.

They both buzz in, but Sokka's a little faster, and what comes out of his mouth is, "Gay man."

Zuko's eyes widen. Sokka's eyes widen. Katara gasps audibly, and Toph slaps at her podium, laughing. The audience loves this one, whistling and applauding, and Uncle Iroh claps too. "Again, not a top answer," he says, chuckling. "But very insightful and inclusive, Sokka."

Sokka slinks a little lower, shoulders hunching.

"What is something you might wear while driving?" asks Uncle Iroh.

"Panties," blurts Zuko, slapping his buzzer.

"Not inaccurate," says Uncle Iroh kindly, "but the top answers were 'seatbelt,' 'sunglasses,' and 'eyeglasses.'"

Zuko buries his face in his hands. His score ticks down to -200.

The next questions are rapidfire:

"Name a planet."

"Terrestrial," says Zuko.

"Yes, and your specificity is appreciated, but we were thinking more along the lines of 'jupiter.' Next question: things that come in pairs."

"Cores," Sokka says.

"Hm. Perhaps this necessitates clarification: things that come in sets of two."

"Nipples," Sokka says.

"Oh, my! Yes, but not a top answer. Next: things one might find under your bed."

"Nurse costumes," Sokka says.

"No. A type of muffin?"

"Stud," says Zuko.

"No. Name a common fear?"

"The little seeds in sausages!" says Sokka.

"No. Something that tastes good with ketchup?"

"Waffles!" Zuko yells.

"No. A reason you might move out of town?"

"Fucked everyone!" Sokka shouts, fast enough that it slips past the censors.

"Erm. No. A phrase people use in the stock market?"

Zuko spits explosively as he rushes out his answer: "'Earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization!'"

Uncle Iroh finally pauses. The scoreboard has been ticking down rapidly. They're both sitting at negative six hundred points, and the trained studio audience doesn't seem to know what to do, torn between silence and scattered applause. Zuko pants, staring over Sokka's shoulder at Katara, who has her fingers clasped silently to her mouth, eyes shut; and Aang, who is beaming and applauding as if they've been acing every question. Toph and Suki are choking on laughter behind Zuko. He has never felt warmer in his entire life.

"Okay," says Uncle Iroh carefully, taking an offstage cue from one of the showrunners, "this occasion calls for a special tiebreaker to determine the leading team! Are you boys ready for your final question?"

With great reluctance, Zuko raises his hand above his buzzer again. Sokka does the same. Their eyes meet, united in complete humiliation and misery.

"Name a body part—" Uncle Iroh hesitates visibly, "—that begins with the letter 'C.'"

 _Don't say 'cock,'_ a voice inside Zuko whispers. _Don't say 'cock.' Whatever you fucking do, Zuko, do not say 'cock.'_

In slow motion, he sees his hand descending toward his button—

Sokka buzzes in.

"Cock," he says.

His score clicks down to -700. Uncle Iroh says nothing. The 'applause' sign doesn't flash, and the studio lights go up, and someone offstage calls, "We're on commercial break now."

Fucking Toph and Suki completely lose it, falling behind their podiums. Katara continues to stand very still with her eyes closed, as if deep in meditation. Uncle Iroh slowly puts his cards down, puts one hand on Zuko's shoulder and the other on Sokka's, and shakes his head just once, somberly.

"I think that went very well!" says Aang brightly.

*

**~Saturday~**

Zuko has barely moved since the show, climbing into his favorite comfort panties and under a blanket. His phone was ringing like mad, so Zuko turned it off and stuck it in his freezer. If it's Azula, she knows where to find him. If it's anyone else, they can sod off. Zuko groans and rolls himself into a burrito. He wants badly not to exist.

There goes any chance of him ever being taken seriously as an actor again, he thinks. There go the Academy Award nominations and the documentaries about his glamorous life and the quiet talk shows about his talent, intelligence, and craft. Azula would tell him he's being melodramatic, but she stopped shooting films when she was twelve, and she didn't just humiliate herself in front of a live audience and the entire internet.

Worst of all, he fucked up in front of Sokka. _Sokka,_ literally the most beautiful man he has ever met, whom he had intended to impress.

 _Waffles,_ he thinks, bitterly self-deprecating. _Stud._

The doorbell rings.

"Fuck off," Zuko calls, voice muffled by his comforter.

The doorbell rings again. And again.

"Fuck's sake!" He forces himself out of bed and forgoes his pants in favor of a long button-up shirt that doesn't _quite_ cover his ass—whatever, it's not like Azula cares—and stalks through his huge foyer. "Azula, I told you, I don't want to see anyone right—"

He hurls the door open.

Sokka is standing on the other side, holding what appears to be a casserole dish filled with tuna-something. "Hi," Sokka says.

"Hi," Zuko whispers.

Sokka's eyes slip downward. "Nice panties," he says gently. "Can I come in?"

*

"I mean, it can't be that bad," Sokka says.

Against Sokka's protests, Zuko puts on pants, and they watch it again, together, both holding plates of untouched Tuna Surprise.

"It _was_ that bad," Sokka marvels, when the video ends.

"Worse, rather," says Zuko.

"Especially since Suki and Katara follow us without missing a question," says Sokka. "They're arguably the most normal of us, right? I saw Toph putting makeup powder on her feet once, and Aang is so darling it's unreal."

"Right?" Zuko's not feeling super charitable toward Aang at this moment, though. "Cute little fuck was the one who convinced me to go on the show in the first place. He thought it would reveal a 'whole new angle' of myself to the world."

"I like your new angles," says Sokka.

"Are you talking about my panties again?"

Sokka blushes and smiles slyly.

"Stop it," says Zuko, punching him so hard in the shoulder that he falls off the couch. Sokka clutches his injury, roaring with laughter there on the floor.

In all of their years of filming, the two of them didn't interact that much. Sokka and Suki were always off stealing bulbs from the lighting technicians and playing around in their wardrobes and hiding fart machines on set, and Zuko was running lines by himself, or rarely with Katara and Aang, who've been making eyes at each other for three years now and really need a little push in the right direction.

Toph was the one who engaged with him most often. She wasn't intimidated by him. Gave no fucks about his accolades. There was a nice morning rehearsal when she offered him her extra doughnut and sat with him as Sokka, Katara, and Aang filmed an early scene on the ice set, handing him one of her earbuds so Zuko could listen to the thrash metal band she was digging back then. Zuko's ears rang for the rest of the day, and he delivered his lines too loudly, but it was worth it to see Toph smirking at him from off-set as he ruined take after take.

But Zuko was usually too drained from filming to catch dinner with them after they wrapped for the day. Method acting took a lot out of him, especially given the high-emotion nature of his role, an angry but kindhearted prince. Early on, the director accurately pointed out that the film's emotional success hinged on his character's development. Zuko took that responsibility very seriously.

And lost out on a lot of laughs because of it, maybe. Sokka is still lying on the carpet, thumbs moving rapidly on his phone's keyboard.

"Who are you texting?" asks Zuko.

"AtLA Group chat," says Sokka. "Telling them about your killer right hook."

"There's a group chat?"

"Yeah. We sent you an invite a billion years ago, but you never accepted it. Thought that maybe we were getting on your nerves or something."

"You weren't," says Zuko. "You never did. Any of you."

Sokka looks up at him with surprise—then softness. His hair is down, messy, and his button-up shirt has slipped a little to show a dark, delicious glimpse of collarbone.

"Clavicle," Zuko blurts out.

"Hm?" says Sokka.

"A—a body part that starts with 'C.' Clavicle."

Sokka's face reddens, but he smiles, then gives Zuko's leg a little stroke through his pants. "Calf," he returns quietly, sitting up on his knees.

"Chin," says Zuko, pressing a nervous thumb to the pretty dip below Sokka's lower lip.

"Cheek," Sokka returns, and cups his face. They sit there for a moment, their breathing heavy. Then Sokka sits down gingerly beside him again and says, voice low, "May I kiss you, Zuko?"

"Please," Zuko whispers.

Sokka kisses him. Just a sweet, chaste thing, little brush of their lips together, but it sends shivers down Zuko's spine, and he can't help the full-body shudder that follows, embarrassing him greatly. But Sokka just chuckles and brings their mouths close again. He tongues lightly between Zuko's teeth. After a moment of hesitation, Zuko parts his lips further to invite Sokka in.

He's not a virgin—thank you Jet, action hero and environmental activist with one hell of an oral fixation—but that was a long time ago, and Zuko feels awkward and young as Sokka lays kiss after kiss on him: first his mouth, then his throat, then behind his ear, making him tingle with arousal. He pulls Sokka closer and strokes his hair as Sokka laves attention on his neck. "No marks, please," Zuko gasps, annoyed with himself for worrying about such a ridiculous thing in the moment, but fearful of what the press would say if he grabbed his morning Everything Bagel with a set of hickies tomorrow.

"Okay, no marks," says Sokka, and stops nipping at him, returning to wet, languid kisses. "Fuck, Zuko. You smell so damn good."

"So do you," Zuko mumbles. Like vanilla and cloves and the sea. He grasps at the bottom hem of Sokka's shirt. "M-my bedroom is the first door on the left."

He expects to be helped to his feet, but Sokka startles him by hefting him into his arms without hesitation and throwing him over one shoulder. Zuko yelps, flailing. Sokka marches him down the hallway with one hand firmly holding his ass to keep him balanced, moving with such intent that Zuko feels another throb of excitement. Sokka opens the door to the bathroom.

"Other left," says Zuko.

"Oops. Minus one hundred points," says Sokka, laughing nervously, and then turns around and nudges open his bedroom door with one foot.

As soon as they're within range of the bed, Sokka hurls him onto it, crawls on top of him, and begins kissing the hell out of him.

Zuko moans, kissing back, arching off the bed as he struggles to get some friction between their pelvises. Sokka complies by pressing a thigh between his knees. Zuko thrusts hard against it, knowing that he's wet even through his trousers. Sokka feels it and immediately goes to strip them off, whistling softly as he reveals Zuko's panties again.

"So do you wear these regularly?" he asks.

"They're comfortable," Zuko says. "Oh, god— _more_."

Sokka blows lightly, breath hot against the thin cotton that's straining to contain Zuko's dripping erection. He kisses Zuko delicately through the cloth, then slides the panties off, too, eyes closing briefly when he gets his first proper look at Zuko's member. "Zuko, my god," he whispers. "You're lovely."

"You," Zuko insists.

"You haven't even seen any of me yet," Sokka points out.

"Right. Can we please fix that?" Zuko says, and begins unfastening the buttons on Sokka's shirt. It slows them, and Sokka beams at him as he takes care not to rip it. It's clearly one of his favorites, worn thin at the elbows. Zuko pushes it back just enough to reveal his neck and shoulders before reaching into Sokka's jeans and withdrawing his hard member.

Zuko stares. There's no other way to put it: it's a great cock. Tastefully veined, uncut, emerging from a nest of dark, neatly trimmed hair. Zuko reaches out and wraps his fingers around it, and Sokka twitches in his hand, gasping. "O-oh! Oh my god! Zuko!"

"Sorry! Too fast?" Zuko frets, starting to let go, but Sokka grabs his wrist.

"No! I mean, yes, give me a sec, sorry. I've just—I've been dreaming about this moment for six years, and I don't want to screw it up too fast."

"Six years?" asks Zuko, baffled. They've only been filming together for three.

"Dude, I've had _such_ a crush on you ever since you played the nephew in _It's a Long, Long Way to Ba Sing Se._ I still have your posters up on my bedroom walls at my dad's house! How embarrassing is that? It was all I could do to try to play it cool when we got cast together." He takes a deep, steadying breath, but his smile still wobbles. "Fifteen-year-old Sokka swore his body to you that year: his first time would be with Seon Zu Ko, or no one."

Zuko smiles. He even said his old stage name like he stylized it back then. "That's sweet, Sokka, but I'm glad you got over that. I'd hate to have, um, detained you."

Sokka pauses. Stares at him with huge, sober eyes.

Zuko freezes. "Sokka?" he says, after a long moment. "Am I—your first?"

"Would that be a problem?" Sokka asks, strangled with nerves.

"No," says Zuko. "That's—" _hot._ So hot. So fucking hot, "—fine."

"Are you sure? I understand if you want someone with a little more experience. Obviously you have people lining up to lick the cute little Converse they made you wear for Shout It Out. But—if you were to give me a chance, Zuko? If you were to help me out a little? I will give you the best, most fondly fumbling, earnest, A-plus-plus-plus effort of your life!"

"Stop, stop, you don't have to sell it to me," Zuko says, laughing. "My hand is already on your dick!"

"I just didn't think you even liked me during filming," Sokka admits.

"When I'm shooting something, I just get hyper-focused," says Zuko. He eyes Sokka again and can't help it; his voice goes all husky. "Let me show you how much I like you _now_."

He seizes Sokka around the shoulders with one arm and rolls him over. Sokka's not even fully undressed, but Zuko can't wait much longer, and the texture of Sokka's jeans against Zuko's bare ass is getting him even harder. He rummages around on his bedside table and turns up with a tube of warming lubricant and a condom, leaning down to shower Sokka with inexhaustible kisses.

"You're seeing someone right now?" Sokka asks between pecks, propping himself up halfway with a pillow.

"Not for ages," says Zuko. "I hope these are still good." He sits up and squints at the expiration dates. "I think we're okay."

"Who was the last person you slept with?"

Zuko kisses him again. "The actor who played the lead in 'Freedom Fighters' last fall? His name was—"

"Jet!" Sokka shouts directly into his face. "You fucked Jet! I knew it! I shipped your characters from FF so hard! Oh god, that's so sexy!" His cock twitches where it's nestled in the cleft of Zuko's ass; Zuko shudders and leans forward, working his own erection furiously.

"You mind getting a little messy?"

"Are you kidding?" says Sokka. He eagerly opens one hand and watches with excitement as Zuko drizzles lube into his palm, testing its texture between two fingers. "Oh! It's getting hot! Is it supposed to do that?"

"Yes, that's right. Have you ever—?" he breaks off as Sokka reaches behind him and rubs gently, so gently, over his entrance. No penetration, just a whisper of the pad of his finger. It's so tender that Zuko wants to weep. He and Jet were ravenous in bed, all teeth and nails, but Sokka is delicacy and uncertainty and affection, and Zuko feels privileged to see this part of him before anyone else. He knows, abruptly, that Sokka will be someone special to him. And he wishes he knew how to articulate this, but Sokka is stroking him lightly, swiping all coherent thought from his head.

"All right?" says Sokka softly.

"Unf," says Zuko, eyes falling shut as he sighs. He could probably come just from this, but that's no good for Sokka. He lets go of his dick and splays a hand on Sokka's chest to steady himself, reaching back to press one of his own fingers inside of him. It burns a little, and Zuko winces. Sokka stops immediately, hand moving back to grip Zuko's ass cheek.

"Sorry. Did I do that?"

"No, that was me. One sec, then I'm all yours."

He works himself open with one finger, then two. When he can comfortably spread them, and the ache has become pleasurable, he takes Sokka's hand and brings it back into place between his buttocks. "I think your fingers are wider than mine, so if you could just start with one, please?" he says, embarrassed by how he sounds, all breathy and desperate despite his attempts toward politeness.

"Oh, Zuko. I'm going to screw that control right out of you," says Sokka slyly, but when his finger reenters Zuko, it's slick and easy and careful. He wiggles it experimentally. "Fuck, you're so tight."

"Actually do two," says Zuko. "I can take two."

"That seems fast—"

"I can handle it." _Want you. Need you, Sokka._

Sokka stretches him out slowly. It's agonizing. Zuko lets his eyes drift shut as Sokka pushes in and out, fucking him sweetly, using his other hand to cup Zuko's face. "Oh my god," says Sokka. "If you could just see yourself right now. We should get you a mirror or something."

"I hate looking at myself," says Zuko.

"You're a fucking actor, Zuko."

"I rarely watch my own films after the premieres. At least not for myself." He's rewatched _Avatar_ more than a dozen times to watch Sokka's fight scene with Piandao, leaping through the bamboo with his prop sword, muscles flexing gorgeously as he shouts and swings. "God, I think I wanted you before I even _knew_ I wanted you."

"You were pretty in your own head during filming. I wouldn't be offended if you didn't notice me. You're so talented, Zuko. So talented and pretty and—" Sokka breaks off as Zuko shakes, dick swelling between them. "Ooh, hit on something there, did I? You're wonderful, Zuko. You're unbelievable. Holy shit, I can't fucking believe I'm having sex with you."

"You can do three," Zuko manages. "Hurry. Hurry, please."

But Sokka takes his time sliding a third finger in him, careful, dedicated to not hurting him. Zuko groans, pushing back against his hand. It's so good, and Sokka's beautiful below him, his face flushed and sweaty and his eyes bluer than the ocean they shot beside for their Ember Island beach scenes. Zuko rides him slowly until he's nice and open, then seizes Sokka's beautiful cock at the base and holds it steady below him as he rolls on the condom.

"Are you ready?" he pants.

"Oh god," is Sokka's response. He squeezes his eyes shut, concentrating. "I may be a little _too_ ready, if you catch my drift."

"I don't mind if it's quick," says Zuko. "I just want you in me right now."

"If you're sure. I'll take care of you, I promise, but _ohhhh._ Oh, Zuko—" His words fall off into a sob as Zuko navigates his erection carefully inside of him, sinking down slow and easy until he's fully seated against Sokka's pelvis. Zuko groans. He feels so good and full and truly happy—he hasn't felt this good in ages, physically or emotionally. Sokka fits inside him perfectly, reaching just the right depth and widening him to the most pleasurable millimeter. It's like they were fucking made for each other.

Sokka moans. "Fuck. Zuko, can I move? I think I have to move!"

"Go ahead," Zuko says, and Sokka pulses his hips upward, and Zuko's world explodes into a billion stars. He almost fucking passes out. "Oh! How did you—yes! There, if you can—right there—"

Sokka repeats the motion. Zuko lets go of his own cock; he's going to come if he gets any more stimulated than this. He seizes Sokka's arms instead, those delicious biceps, and uses that leverage to start riding Sokka with greedy intent. He feels shameless and desperate and hungry. He bounces up and down on Sokka's perfect dick, gasping, bangs falling in his face as he pitches forward. Sokka whines below him, but one of his hands comes up and strokes Zuko's hair considerately out of his eyes.

Could he be any more incredible?

Zuko flexes around him and Sokka cries out, deep and throaty, and closes both arms around Zuko's waist. Suddenly they're flipped: Zuko is pinned below Sokka in an instant, Sokka's shirt still on and hanging open above him, and Zuko reaches forward compulsively and thumbs at his dark, pretty nipples.

And just like that, Sokka begins pounding into him with abandon, panting and groaning and driving him into the mattress with every thrust. All this force, Zuko realizes, and it's still lovemaking: Sokka's eyes are open and transfixed on his face with disbelieving affection, and he's rolling his hips to accommodate the spot in Zuko that makes him cry out the loudest, and when Zuko's hands fall against the bed, Sokka seizes them in his own, interlacing their fingers, and presses them above Zuko's head. Zuko's back arches. Jet was great, but this is _transcendent_.

"You're not a virgin," Zuko gasps.

"I am! I was! But—I spent s-so many y-years thinking about—what I wanted to do to you and—oh, fuck, Zuko—I can't last—"

"Come," Zuko urges. "It's okay. Come for me."

Sokka actually weeps, a tear splashing down one cheek, and comes with such force that his whole body goes rigid. His face is fucking stunning: eyes shut, lashes clumped and wet, mouth open in a graceful little 'o.' Zuko stares at him with infinite affection as Sokka grinds his hands into the pillow, still trying for abortive little pumps; still trying to please Zuko.

There's still enough friction between them that Zuko thrusts once, then twice, then he's coming untouched, something that has never happened to him before. He's never been vocal in bed, either, but this time the cry rips itself from his throat, loud and high and trembling. He doesn't even have time to be embarrassed because Sokka is on his mouth in a second, kissing him deeply and shakily and neatly, somehow devouring him with courtesy. Zuko could die happy beneath him. He kisses back passionately, shuddering, legs parted around Sokka's jeans-clad legs.

He feels like he comes forever. The pleasure doesn't stop, rolling over him in wave after wave. When they finally abate, Zuko is sated and pleasantly spent and he _doesn't_ feel ridiculous the way he used to when he came down from his high after his other encounters. He's just—comfortable. Comfortable, and feeling the beginnings of what might be legitimate love.

Sokka lets go of his hands and sits up, reaching to grasp Zuko's softening member. "Did you come?" he asks hoarsely.

"Yes," says Zuko sleepily.

"W-was I good?"

"I don't know," he teases. "We might need to try again a few dozen times before I can form an opinion."

"Post-coital Zuko is sassy. I love it." Sokka's still gulping back tears; it's the cutest thing Zuko has ever seen. He reaches for a box of tissue and wipes Sokka's face before cleaning up their abdomens, then holds one hand there on his cheek as Sokka pulls back and carefully removes the condom. "Do you have a trash can?"

Zuko points to it, and Sokka tosses it in along with the Kleenex.

"So," says Sokka. "Fucking up the game show and going viral as a complete idiot? Worth it, in the end."

"Agreed," says Zuko. "Though I'd still revise the 'planet' answer."

Sokka smiles at him, soft and shy. He strokes Zuko's hair for a long moment, tucking it back behind his ear. "Corazón," he says at last.

"'Corazón?'"

"Body parts that start with C. I know it's cheating, but it means 'heart' in Spanish."

"Oh," says Zuko. He feels a blush spread across his cheeks, and can't help but lean forward and kiss Sokka again, featherlight on the lips. One of his hands touches Sokka's chest—his heart is still pounding; Zuko will take that as a compliment—and walks his fingers down his sternum toward his bellybutton. "You know what else starts with C?"

"What?" asks Sokka, beginning to smile.

"Crotch," Zuko offers.

Sokka grins. "One hundred points," he says, and captures him in a slow, voracious kiss.

*

**_AVATAR_ ACTORS AND THEIR AMOROUS AFFAIRS:**

**Last week, we brought you exclusive news of 'Kataang's' romantic stroll through the Merchant Town Museum. Now we introduce 'Zukka:' _Avatar_ castmates Sokka Qappik and Zuko Seon were seen sharing a romantic brunch at Patola's, Sokka's breakfast sausage picked clean of caraway seeds, Zuko enjoying his waffles with a hearty side of ketchup. No comment yet on the presence of nurse costumes or panties, but we'll keep you posted. Our next article, because so many of you asked: how to calculate your business' earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization!**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Shout It Out [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29756139) by [Rionaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa)




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